


Shadow at Morning

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Category: Big Bang Theory
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-22
Updated: 2011-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year on from <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/231178">Certain Half-Deserted Streets</a> for the timestamp fic meme. If there's such a thing as grimdark curtainfic, this is quite possibly it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow at Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jazzfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzfic/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Certain Half-Deserted Streets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/231178) by [Lauren (notalwaysweak)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren). 



> _Big Bang Theory_ characters belong to Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady and whoever.

The nicest thing about Boulder is having their own place to live in, a whole house to themselves, but it's still so close to the others. Sheldon grumbles about being so far from the university; Penny just tosses his bicycle helmet at him and tells him he's going to be late if he doesn't get a move on.

(Sometimes they call the baby "Leakey" because it seems like he's constantly peeing. Sometimes Penny wishes they'd gone all out and just named him Leonard Rajesh Howard Cooper, but it felt -- and feels -- too much like giving up.)

Once Sheldon's gone, Penny goes next door to Stuart and Bernadette's place. Bernadette's always already en route to work. Stuart takes the baby with him to his job, working down at the Census Bureau, because it's safer. Penny feels less guilty every time she does it, even if expressing her milk and sending it along with Stuart in a bottle isn't the same as breastfeeding, and sometimes it makes her feel like less of a mom.

Then she fires up her bike, a throaty-voiced Kawasaki Ninja, and heads out of town.

The watchtower is an unobtrusive structure built just a little higher than the last houses on the road; only its relative newness marks it as anything other than a child's playhouse up on stilts. Penny parks the bike and climbs up to trade places with Annie.

"Hey, Mommy. How's the little guy doing?"

"He's fine. Four months next week. I can't wait until he's old enough for solids. There's a reason people don't speak too fondly of baby crap."

Annie wrinkles her nose and laughs. No more than twenty years old, not even fighting her way to Boulder has checked what seems to Penny to be her endless optimism. "Well, anytime you want a sitter... I'll be sure to ask Shirley to help you out." She moves to climb down out of the watchtower, and Penny impulsively grabs her wrist.

(She knows before she asks that Annie will only say what she knows Penny wants to hear. And yet she can't take it back, any more than she can take back whichever night of fucking got her pregnant with Sheldon's blue-eyed baby.)

"Annie..."

"Yeah?"

"Do you -- are you still waiting for any of your friends to get here?"

A shadow crosses Annie's face for a second. "Well, not everyone's here, but there're still people coming in. I mean, Stuart could tell you that, right? They're always a few days behind down there, but... Penny, you can't give up hope."

"I _haven't_ ," Penny says fiercely, and Annie goes wide-eyed and winces. Penny releases her grip on Annie's wrist with a murmured apology.

Alone in the watchtower, except for the CB radio, which is currently tuned to one of the non-emergency channels and is therefore blaring out the rag-tag high school band's rendition of an Elvis medley, Penny takes a moment to close her eyes.

(One day, maybe, she'll tune in to this channel and hear a lone cellist.)

When she opens them again, they're set with resolve, ready for the long hours of staring out of the tower, like every other tower set on every road into Boulder. She has taken her turn in each of them, watching for bodies or bombs or burning, each tower the same, with some food and some drink and lots of ammunition.

She turns the radio to the station allocated to long-range broadcasts. Mostly it just spits static and white noise, but any day could be the day a new group finds them and starts giving their names.

In the meantime, she has a city to help protect, and whenever she really doubts herself, it's that thought that reminds her she's a great mom after all.


End file.
